


Forgotten Secrets

by likehandlingroses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indentured servant Belle is convinced her employer has a secret, and she is determined to discover what it is, even if it means giving away a secret of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten Secrets

**_The New World, 1690_ **

The people of Chesterton liked to talk. It didn’t especially matter what about, though they had their favorite topics. Mary Whistleson’s twins had been a recent subject of fascination, and the Hemingshaw family’s endless string of scandals were always ready to fill any lull in the conversation. However, the people of Chesterton most often liked to talk about themselves. In particular, they prided themselves on knowing exactly where they’d come from. William Bucksley had an uncle still in Wales, though his own father had been brought over as a young boy. And, of course, Morris Clingham liked to brag of his grandfather’s role in founding the town.

“Those were the days that made a man, made whole generations of ‘em!” Then he’d sigh and nod to himself contentedly. “And here we stand, right in their footsteps, carrying on what they started.”

Everyone in Chesterton knew who they were, and, on the whole, everyone knew who everyone else was as well. The only puzzle, it seemed, was Mr. Gold, who, as far as anyone could tell, had always been there, writing up contracts in his gloomy office all day and limping back home to his overlarge house at seven o’clock. He never offered a story, and no one ever dared ask him for one. His maid, though friendly enough, was equally vague about her origins. The entire household was veiled in mystery, and it prompted sometimes nasty rumors. “Probably on the run from someone,” Richard Curtis said, but Mr. Gold didn’t seem afraid. Indeed, his demeanor seemed to dare anyone to ask for the story they so desperately wanted to hear.

* * *

 

_**The Enchanted Forest, A Long Long Time Ago** _

"Rumplestiltskin? She's here again." Rumple looked up from his work to find Belle in the doorway, twisting her hands.

"You mean our dear Captain? Well, you tell her I'll be down to see her in-"

"I'm afraid I don't have much time," a voice interjected, and a woman pushed past Belle into the room. "You understand, of course."

Her smirk made Rumple's blood boil, but he reined in his tongue. "Yes, of course. As long as you have what I want."

Her hook scratched the wood of the table as she leaned against it. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Rumple nodded and looked at Belle, who, stammering, excused herself.

"Jumpy, isn't she?" Hook watched the empty doorway for a moment before turning back to him. "Anyway, I've found a man who'll give us exactly what we need. He trades in enchanted gemstones. Those slippers you were looking to get your hands on? It's not the shoes that do it, it's the jewels. Only problem is, they're in rather short supply, and his last stock has already gone. But I managed to get him to promise us two, once his next ship comes in next week."

"Two? Wherever did you get that number?”

Hook frowned. "You said you wouldn't stop me from following you."

Rumple waved his hands. "Yes, yes, I know. But I never said I needed just two. As it so happens, we'll need three."

"Three? And just who are you planning on taking with us?" She laughed upon seeing Rumple's glance to the doorway. "Her? The maid? That's who you want me to get an extra one for? You understand how difficult it will be to get two?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly. But it seems you've forgotten-you're doing this as a favor to me. And I'm very kindly letting you come along. So, if two is all you can manage...you find your own way."

Hook straightened up and sighed. "All right. Three, then. But you listen to me, Dark One. Once this is over, our deal ends. I'll keep my promise, leave you alone. So long as you do the same."

"Of course, dearie. I wouldn't dream of standing in your way while you do...whatever it is you like to do these days. Can't promise there'll be a pirating enterprise waiting for you, but I'm sure your creativity will make the best of things."

Hook rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back in a week.”

“I’ll be ready,” he replied, and she was gone in another moment. Rumplestiltskin smiled to himself. Finally, he was going to find his son. 

* * *

 

**_Chesterton, 1690_ **

_Wrinkled again._ Belle sighed and folded the shirt carefully, though there wasn't really any point in doing so. She’d managed to ruin it for about the fifth time.

 _Perhaps it’s a bit better than last time_ , she thought. Yes, it certainly had improved. Just a few more tries, and she’d get it. Mr. Gold would just have to put up with the wrinkles until then. Or get another maid. Which, Belle pondered, would probably be wise. Laundry was still a mystery, and she was always distracted by his art collection while dusting. Most absurdly, she’d been altogether banned from scrubbing the floors or windows when Gold had realized the toll the soap took on her hands.

Nevertheless, he never seemed displeased for more than an instant at any of her mistakes. Oh, he teased her. But she’d heard stories, dreadful ones, of indentured servants who were treated as permanent slaves, as almost non-human. Mr. Gold was a private man, sardonic and sharp, but not entirely unkind. And she…she was happy. Or, at the very least, content, which was more than most people in the world could say at any given time.

She heard the front door creak open and hastily placed the shirt in a pile. A few clicks of a cane on the floor later, Mr. Gold was in the room. She stood in front of the laundry, but his face revealed that it was too late for hiding anything.

“And how did the laundry go this time?” he asked.

“Not even a hello first,” she teased. “And it went just fine, thank you.”

“Did it? I’m impressed.”

“Well…some of the shirts are still a bit wrinkled, but I’m sure I’ll get it next time.”

“Oh,” Gold chuckled. “I see.”

He picked up one of the shirts and inspected it as a smile crossed his face. “You know, you never told me why you came here. To the New World.”

Belle felt her muscles tense. He was bound to ask sometime. She just wished he had waited until she’d discovered an appropriate response. “Does it matter?”

“Not particularly. It’s just that people here like to talk about these things, you know. And you just…pretend like nothing ever happened before you started working here.”

"Well, it can’t be a very interesting story. There are dozens of women who've come over in this town."

"Not any like you."

"What do you mean?"

"You had money back in England. A family who doted on you, no doubt."

"I don't-"

"You know, my dear, most girls who come over to work know how. Maybe the family's poor, maybe they don't have one...either way, they all know how to launder a shirt. Except you."

"That again,” Belle sighed. “I’m learning. I'm going to work like I promised. What does it matter where I've come from?"

"Oh, it doesn't really. I just wondered why someone who had all they wanted would leave and give up her freedom."

"I don't see how it's any of your business." She winced after the words. Surely that wouldn’t deter him, but it had been the first thing to come to her mind. To her surprise, he simply shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

"Fair enough,” he said. “Keep your secrets."

His giving in was less of a relief than Belle had anticipated. After all, perhaps she could tell him the truth. And then, if she did…

"...what if I traded for it?"

Gold raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"You want to know my story, you tell me something."

"And what is it you could possibly want to know about me?"

"Why do you go to the docks every day? Every morning, exactly at eleven? What are you waiting for?"

"Oh, those again. I've already told you. I take a walk every morning. There are docks along the way. I'm insulted that you think I haven't any better stories than that."

There was no doubt in Belle’s mind now. He really was a horrific liar, and she was determined to wrench the truth from him. "Every morning you stop and look around for someone or-or something, I don't know what. Don't pretend you don't."

He shook his head. "If you're looking for the truth, I've already-"

"I don’t remember what happened to me,” Belle interjected. Perhaps, if she went first, if she told him her secret, he would trust her with his. “I don’t remember ever not being here. I mean, I must have come over here sometime but I…I can’t remember why. Or when. Or-or any of it before about a year ago.”

Mr. Gold’s eyes widened as she spoke, and Belle felt her stomach turn. Now she’d done it. He’d think she was mad, and who knows what he’d do then? An incompetent maid was one thing, but an insane one…he’d have every right to throw her out.

“I don’t remember either,” he said, after a long pause, his voice soft and hoarse. “Not anything before last Christmas.”

Had he not looked so deathly serious, Belle might have thought he was teasing her again. But his hands shook as they gripped his cane, and his eyes traced something invisible on the floor. He was telling the truth, though how two people could suddenly forget their whole lives, Belle didn’t know. 

"So...you go the docks to try and remember?"

"In a way, yes."

"There's more, isn't there?"

"No!” The abruptness of his response prompted an eyebrow raise from Belle, and he sighed in resignation. “You’ll think me mad.”

"I've thought that for some time already. What is it?"

"There's a man who works at the docks. And I feel like…like I must know him. I don't know from where."

"Have you asked him?"

"I can't. I don't know what I'd ask."

“Just tell him what you told me. That you can’t remember anything, but you’re hoping he might know something.”

“And if he doesn't? If I’m just mad?” Belle opened her mouth, but he stood up and waved his hand dismissively. “No. If I’m meant to remember, I will. If not…it’s likely better left to whatever oblivion it was lost to.”

* * *

 

_**The Enchanted Forest** _

“Wait-leaving? You mean, the castle?”

“I mean, this realm.”

“But-but why?”

Rumple’s faced screwed up in mock consideration before he shrugged his shoulders. “Not telling.”

“No, wait!” Belle grabbed his arm as he swiveled around to leave. Judging by the grin that crossed her face, Rumple guessed he hadn’t successfully masked his excitement at the gesture. “If we’re going, you have to tell me why.”

“No, actually, I don’t. See, you agreed to come work for me forever.”

“’-in your castle. And if you abandon it, I don’t have to go with you. That’s the deal we made.”

“No, you agreed to come work for _me_. And _I_ can go wherever I please. So. Pack your things, we leave in the morning.”

He turned to leave again, but her hand once again gripped his arm. He closed his eyes in frustration. Gods, but she was an infuriating thing sometimes.

“What if I trade for it?”

“A trade?”

“I tell you a secret if you tell me why we’re going to another realm.”

“Well, well. A duke’s sheltered daughter, willing to give up her precious secret. I’m flattered.”

Belle looked embarrassed for a moment, but her eyes never left his. “Well, do you want to take the deal or not?”

It was silly, really, to go along with her. And yet…what would be the worst that could happen? She knew nearly everything already, always snooping about when she was supposed to be cleaning. Somehow, he felt as though telling her the truth would be perfectly sensible. Perhaps it would even be comforting. “I’ll humor you. Go on.”

“Well…everyone thinks what I did when I made my deal with you was a sacrifice, and it was. But…I also wanted to go. See, I didn't want to be married. Especially not to Gaston.”

Rumple felt a thrill run through him at the words. “Well, that’s a shame," he lied. "He seemed a gallant fellow."

“He is, I suppose. And handsome enough. But he…he wasn’t right. And my father had arranged it all years ago, so I couldn't say anything. I was hoping my mother would help me get out of it all, but she died, just a few months ago. So…this was my way of getting out. Everything thinks I’m being the hero, but it isn't that simple.”

“Well, that certainly is a scandal, dearie. Who ever heard of a woman trying to escape a loveless marriage? You should write a novel.”

The look of pain that crossed her face made him feel momentarily guilty, but her expression changed back to one of exasperating curiosity, and she stared up at him expectantly, a smirk on her face. After a silence, she tilted her head.

“Well? It’s your turn.”

“Oh, my story couldn’t possibly be as interesting as yours.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

The Dark One never broke a deal, and this could be no exception. Now that the time had come, Rumple cursed himself for entering into this madness at all. “Well, if you must know. There’s someone I need to find in this realm.”

“Who?”

“No one that concerns you-”

“Does it have to do with that person you lost? The one you lit the candle for?”

Gods, she was too clever for her own good. Rumple closed his eyes and took a breath before answering. “…yes.”

“And he’s…your brother? Or, a-a child?”

“He’s…he’s my son. Baelfire is his name.” The name slipped off his tongue, demanding he say it. It was the first time he’d told it to anyone at all in hundreds of years, and yet the secret had slipped out so easily he had hardly realized he said it.

Finally, finally, his curious maid was silent, though the vexed look on her face made him wish she’d ask another question.

“All right,” she finally said. “I’ll go.”

Rumple opened his mouth to point out that she’d never really had much of a choice, but the determined look on her face silenced him. She was brave, whatever doubts she might have about her heroism. And he knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, take the power of what she’d just done away from her. She’d chosen to go with him. He didn’t know what that meant, but it had to mean something. She smiled at him, gave his arm a squeeze, and left the room, leaving him frozen in the middle of the floor.

He was going to find his son. And, for the first time, he wouldn’t be alone. 

* * *

 

**_Chesterton_ **

Grocery day was always Belle’s favorite. Though she was by no means a prisoner, she often found herself caught up in the affairs of Mr. Gold’s house, and Chesterton might have gone entirely unexplored were it not for the two times a week she went out to buy food. The people were eccentric, and, perhaps, a little too pompous for their own good, but they were also warm and welcoming. Belle enjoyed her conversations with them, and she took her time about it most days. But this day was different.

She rushed through the shops, almost leaving her purchases on the counter several times. Gold might be too afraid to confront the man, but she wasn’t. And, if he had answer to Gold’s problem, then perhaps he could help her with her own memory loss. She raced to the docks, and it wasn’t until she got there that she realized she didn’t know who she was looking for. She watched the men leave for the day, disappointment settling in.

How could she be so stupid? She didn’t even have a name. Then she saw one man eye her nervously as he passed, and she felt something inside her leap. Without stopping to think, she ran to catch up with him.

“Excuse me, I was hoping we could talk.”

The man quickened his pace. “Not interested.”

“No, no, see, I just wanted to ask if you know Mr. Gol-”

He stopped abruptly and turned towards her, anger flashing in his eyes. “Listen, I know he sent you. And you can tell him to leave me alone.”

“No, see, I think you can help-”

“No. No I can’t.” The man looked her up and down. “Did he even tell you who I am?”

Belle frowned. “Well, no, but that’s because-”

“Of course,” he continued, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Of course, he wouldn’t tell anyone. You want to know? Then maybe you can tell me how helpful I’ll be.”

Belle nodded, though she was beginning to feel sick. Perhaps Mr. Gold had been right, and whatever had happened was best left to the past.

“I’m his son,” the man said after a long pause. “My name’s Baelfire. Well…it was. Here it’s-well, it changes. See, it used to be just me and him, and we were happy. But then he….changed.”

“Changed? What do you mean?”

Baelfire paused to consider the question. “Would you believe me if I told you we were from another world, before we came to Chesterton?”

"We're all from another world here."

"No, I don't mean that. I mean...another world entirely. Nothing you've ever heard of, nowhere you could get on a ship."

"...I don't understand." That feeling in the pit of her stomach was only increasing.

"He sent me here. Through a portal. On my own."

"A-a portal?"

"A giant green pit. Sucked me in, spit me out on this side."

It was madness, all of it. And yet…so was her and Gold’s missing memories. At any rate, it couldn’t hurt to hear the rest of the story.

“So, what world is it that you came from?" she asked.

Baelfire sighed. "It's called the Enchanted Forest."

"Enchanted? As in...?"

"Magic. And he had it. A good deal of it. Dark magic. That's why he got rid of me, so he could keep it."

"But he...he's here as well. And there isn't magic here. Just in stories."

"That's why I wanted him to come with me. To fix him, to change him back to what he had been before he found it. But he didn't want to. I had to find my own way about, and now that I've finally gotten my life together, he shows up again. Doesn't even talk to me. Just stares, like I'm supposed to come and speak to him after what he did."

"He doesn't know that-"

"What did he give you to come here?"

"What?"

"What did he give you? Money? Some time off on Sundays?"

"He doesn't even know I'm here, Baelfire. He told me about you, but he doesn't know you're his son. He’s forgotten it, all of it. He knows you're important, but he's afraid to ask you why. So I-I've come instead."

Baelfire stared at her for a long while, eyes narrowed. "If that's true, then I'm sorry, but I meant what I said before. I'm through with him, and I have been for some time. You mean well, but he's not worth it. We're both better off if he's forgotten."

He walked away, and Belle couldn’t bring herself to stop him. She didn’t even know if what he’d said was true. It was impossible. Yet he seemed so sure, and, though he was undoubtedly angry, he didn’t seem insane. What was she going to tell Gold? It didn’t seem fair to keep it a secret, but she knew the news would only trouble and hurt him. That is, if he believed it at all. She started on her way back home, committing the twisted knot in her stomach to memory. She’d have to remember it next time she decided to try and meddle.

* * *

 

_**The Enchanted Forest** _

“They’re _beautiful_.” Belle handled the silver gem in her hand with wonder, and Hook rolled her eyes.

“Yes, they are. But that’s not why they’re important. See, all we have to do is hold them and imagine the place we most want to get to. All right?”

“Yes, yes, we understand,” Rumple said, waving his hand dismissively. “Now, let’s-”

“Wait. There’s one more thing we have to do. You see, once we leave…the jewels can’t take our memories of this realm with us. We’ll lose all of them.”

The hope Rumple had begun to build in his heart suddenly seemed much smaller than before. “And you didn’t think to tell us this at the beginning?”

“You said you wanted something to get you there, I found something. Any other special requests you’d like to bring up now that I’ve gone and done what you asked? Anyway, there is a way to remember once you get there. You need a trigger. Something that, when you hear it, it’ll bring everything back. And you write it on here.”

She unfurled a dusty scroll that had a good deal of writing already on it.

“So, why don’t we all just put down something simple, like, ‘and’ or ‘yes’?” Belle asked.

“Well, aren’t you a clever one,” Hook sneered. “I can see why Rumple wants to bring you. Can’t do that, darling. See, the word has to mean something. It’s going to bring back _you_. And magic likes a certain balance, you know. It has to be a name, actually. The name of the person you love most. So…pick your poison and let’s go.”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t hesitate in writing “Baelfire.” He looked over at Hook, who shook her head.

“I don’t want to remember,” she said. They both looked over at Belle, who hadn’t moved. She was twisting her hands, and her eyes darted to the floor when she realized they were staring.

“Are you embarrassed?” Hook scoffed . “All right, then. We’ll look away, won’t we, Rumple?”

He nodded, though he privately wished he’d promised no such thing. The only people he knew she loved were her beloved father and her dead mother, and surely no one had any right to be embarrassed about that? No, she was writing someone else’s name on that parchment, and he would have given anything to know whose. Belle pondered the scroll for a minute before etching something in. She stared down at the word for a moment, then looked up expectantly.

“Now what?”

“Now we leave,” Hook answered.

* * *

 

**_Chesterton_ **

“Belle?”

He was home. She’d already decided she would have to tell him, but she felt her resolve begin to falter when she turned to find him standing in the doorway. He was smiling, but it fell when he saw her face.

“Something wrong?”

“No! Well, yes. Sort of. l…I have to tell you something.”

He nodded slowly. “All right. What is it?”

“You know that man you told me about? The sailor? Well…I went to speak with him today, just to see if he knew anything about-”

“What do you mean, you went to speak with him?”

“Well, you weren’t going to! And he did know who you were, in case you were wondering.”

Gold stopped and swallowed nervously. “And what…what did he say?”

Suddenly, Belle felt frightened. It was one thing to know that Gold had a son who despised him. It was entirely another to inform Gold himself. “He’s your son. His name is Baelfire, and he-”

Gold’s eyes suddenly widened in alarm, and he drew in a sharp breath. Belle felt her heart twist. She dreaded the questions that would come. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to-

“Belle,” he whispered, and she realized he had fixed a look of awe on her.

“Yes,” she replied slowly. “Are you all right, Mr. Gold?”

He shook, and then nodded, his head.

“I ah…I-I remember.”

“All of it? Because he said that you were from another world. The Enchanted Forest, actually.”

“Yes,” he nodded, still staring at her. “Yes, I am. We were.”

“We?” Belle’s brow furrowed. “You mean…me and you?”

“You worked for me, in my castle. And we came here to find him.”

“Oh,” Belle murmured. Her heart was racing now. It was the stuff of fairytales and farfetched novels, and yet here it all was, right in front of her. “But why haven’t I remembered?”

Gold twisted his cane. “Because you need to hear a certain name to remember. For me, it was my boy’s. But I don’t know what yours is.”

“What do you mean, a name?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be the name of the person you love the most.”

“And you don’t know who that is?”

“Well…it could be your father. Maurice?”

Belle waited a moment. Nothing. She shook her head.

“Colette, maybe? That’s your mother’s name.”

Belle waited an extra moment before shaking her head again, and Gold sighed. “I’m sorry, I should have looked to see what you’d written. It’s just that you seemed to want it to be a secret.”

A thrill ran through her at his words. She knew which name she’d written.

“Was your name Mr. Gold in that world?” Belle saw Gold’s eyes widen as he shook his head.

“No, but I don’t think-”

“Just tell me what it was.”

He stopped and stared at her for a long while, and Belle saw fear in his eyes.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m right, I know I am. You can tell me.”

“Rumplestiltskin,” he said softly, and Belle remembered.

* * *

 

The people of Chesterton liked to tell stories, but never had they found one quite so interesting as Mr. Gold’s. The very same day Mary Whistleson’s twins turned a year old, he up and married his servant girl. It had taken a week for the news to get out, as the only attendee had been a sailor, who, according to rumors, was Gold’s long lost son. It wasn’t until old Mrs. Kreuger had seen the ring on the girl’s finger that anyone had any idea what had happened. As the three remained unforthcoming, it was up to the citizens of Chesterton to fill in the story with whatever they liked, and they did so with great pleasure. Some of the stories were scandalous and positively wretched. But Mrs. Kreuger stopped them whenever anyone dared utter one in her presence.

“That girl is happier than any I’ve ever seen,” she’d said. “And I reckon she has good reason to be, even if she don’t tell the likes you all exactly what it is.”

So the town let them keep their silence and their happiness, and they embraced both with enthusiasm. After a while, even the people of Chesterton had to put away the past, and the Gold household soon ceased to hold the mystery it once had. Their children, whenever they were asked about where _their_ parents had come from, had one answer: their mama and papa had come to this world together and made a home. And that story, their papa had told them, should be quite fascinating enough for anyone.


End file.
